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When the Call to Prayer Ushered in Each Sunny Andalusian Day
The Met Museum’s spectacular exhibition takes us to Spain, 1000-1200: Art at the Frontiers of Faith
BY MISBAHUDDIN MIRZA
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On Aug. 30, New York’s Met Museum invited the world to witness Muslim Spain, which is on a visita corta there until Jan. 30, 2022. “Spain, 1000-1200: Art at the Frontiers of Faith,” the meticulously curated exhibition being displayed at The Cloisters in uptown Manhattan, takes your breath away. While viewing it, you travel back to the time when Muslims were the world’s sole superpower. And they used this might to rapidly spread justice, peace and equality within the known world.
In 711, a tiny Muslim force landed at Jabal Tariq (Gibraltar), defeated the Visigoth king Roderic at the decisive Battle of Gaudete, and then swiftly overran the entire Iberian Peninsula. Six years later, they crossed the Pyrenees and poured into Septimania — a historical region in modern-day southern France — that had been ceded to the Visigoths’ king Theodoric II in 462.
By 759 they had captured several areas in Gaul — modern-day France — and incorporated them into the newly established province of Andalusia, marking the caliphate’s new northern borders.
This rapid conquest transformed a decaying land into the fabled Andalusia — a center of learning, a flourishing culture of art, architecture and opulent living. Impressed by Islam’s message, most of the local Visigoths converted and contributed new ideas to Islamic architecture, such as the famous Iberian horseshoe arch, and then spearheaded the establishment of the Emirate of Sicily.
The Muslims’ 800-year rule of Andalusia also provided a haven to the historically persecuted Jews, who were now allowed to develop their education, culture and religious traditions in peace. To this day, this period marks Judaism’s golden age.
This exhibition showcases articles that give a brief glimpse into Andalusia’s magnificence, which was light years ahead of its European neighbors. As you enter the exhibition, you are wowed by a 13th-century
Bifolium from the Andalusian Pink Quran. ca. 13th century. Country of Origin Spain Ink, gold, silver, and opaque watercolor on paper H. 12 1/2 in. (31.8 cm)W. 19 3/4 in. (50.2 cm) ( (c) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, Friends of Islamic Art Gifts, 2017) .
Tiraz Fragment. Fustat, Egypt, 11th century Linen and silk; tapestry weave. ( (c) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY. Rogers Fund, 1927).
Bifolium from the Andalusian Pink Quran. Copied in the elegant Maghribi script and featuring gold verse counters and prostration marks to guide the reader, this two-page spread was part of a luxurious, multivolume Quran made for an elite Andalusian patron. Its distinct pink paper, used at a time when most fine Andalusian copies of the Quran were still written on parchment, was milled in Jativa, a town near Valencia that was celebrated for its fine paper production.
Two 12th-century marble gravestone fragments from Almeria are also on display. The outline of a horseshoe arch, its cinched curve accented by delicate leaves, is visible on the first fragmentary grave marker. The single arch suggests the form of a mihrab, a
niche that indicates the prayer direction. This is appropriate, given the Muslim burial practice of orienting the deceased toward Mecca.
This grave marker was made for Princess Asma, a granddaughter of al-Mu’tasim (d. 1091), a king who ruled Almeria, one of the small kingdoms that emerged after the Umayyad Caliphate of Córdoba (1009-31) fell. While nothing is known about her, the verses on it tell us something about the world in which she lived: a contemporary gravestone in Sicily includes the same verses, underscoring Andalusian participation in the broader cultural practices of the western Mediterranean. that named the ruler. Over time, the nature of its inscriptions changed. Although the words have merged with the fragment’s overall decorative pattern, the inscription appears to read “Allah.” This example is similar to the tiraz created in Andalusia at the same time. The frames containing hares and peacocks resemble those seen in the exhibition’s other nearby camel painting.
An 11th-12th century elephant (bishop) chess piece and rook chess piece from the western Mediterranean region are neatly encased in a glass display. Chess came to Spain from Islamic lands and quickly became popular among people of all faiths. An elite
A beautiful 11th-century wood panel with calligraphy from Toledo displays the Nasirid dynasty’s motto of La ghalib illa Allah (There is no victor except Allah) and rests delicately inside a glass enclosure.
A 10th-century capital with acanthus leaves from Cordoba rests on an eye-level display so visitors can better appreciate the intricate art that adorns the columns and pillars found in Andalusia’s mosques and palaces. The style of this capital, which became a standard form in Andalusian architecture during the Umayyad caliphate (929-1031), was based on the composite order found in Roman-era ruins throughout Spain.
Although Andalusian sculptors paid homage to the overall shape and composition of the antique examples, they turned the curly acanthus leaves, blossoms and volutes of traditional models into stylized, attenuated stalks, slender leaves and geometric blooms accentuated by a deeply excavated background. One of the capital’s four sides includes an inscription that seems to identify its maker: Khabara.
A tiraz fragment made from linen and silk in a tapestry weave from 11th-century Fustat, Egypt, is also on display. Tiraz, a type of textile embellished with a decorated, inscribed band, was woven in royal workshops and traditionally featured inscriptions secular activity, chess and its rules and strategies were likely first shared in princely courts, where high-ranking Muslims, Jews and Christians regularly came into contact. Most Islamic chess pieces were abstract, like this cylindrical fil (elephant; a bishop in the European tradition), although figural pieces, such as this rukh (rook) in the form of two riders, do survive.
Near the exhibition’s exit are two maps showing the northern Christian armies’ gradual encroachment as they took advantage of the constant intra-Muslim infighting and disunity that fragmented this mighty Islamic state into petty ta’ifa kingdoms that allied themselves with Christian armies in petty feuds with neighboring Muslim ta’ifa chiefs.
In the early 11th century, the Umayyad caliphate — the centralized Andalusian state based in Córdoba – collapsed and fragmented into smaller kingdoms known as the ta’ifas. Thesekings ruled from cities such as Seville, Granada and Valencia and were known for their patronage of the visual arts, literature and scholarship. Their exquisite palaces featured fine furnishings, opulent textiles and other objects crafted from precious materials, like those on view in this gallery.
During the late 11th century, the Almoravids, a North African dynasty, overtook the ta’ifa and ruled until the mid-12th
Wood Panel with Calligraphy. 11th century Attributed to Spain, Toledo Wood; carved H. 3 13/16 in. (9.7 cm), W. 8 1/16 in. (20.5 cm), D. 9/16 in. (1.5 cm) ( (c) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Dr. Walter L. Hildburgh, 1951)
Elephant (Bishop) Chess Piece, and Rook Chess Piece. Western Mediterranean region, 11th – 12th century. Ivory. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
century, when they were deposed by another North African faction, the Almohads (al-Muwahhidun — the Berber Ash’arite dynasty [1112–1269]). Though court culture changed under these dynasties, their rulers continued to commission magnificent works of art and architecture.
Emboldened by Andalusia’s political turmoil, the armies of the northern Christianruled kingdoms overtook its key cities. Leon and Castile subdued Toledo in 1085, and Aragon conquered Zaragoza in 1118. And these kings, just like their Muslims counterparts, also battled each other for control of the land, which engendered alliances between rulers of different faiths. It was this shortsightedness of the petty Muslim ta’ifa kings that eventually enabled the Christian armies to steadily swallow up all of them, until the final ignominious mass expulsion of the Kingdom of Granada’s remaining Muslims.
The exhibition runs through Jan. 30, 2022. ih
Misbahuddin Mirza, M.S., P.E., a licensed professional engineer, registered in the states of New York and New Jersey, served as the regional quality control engineer for the New York State Department of Transportation’s New York City Region. He is the author of the iBook “Illustrated Muslim Travel Guide to Jerusalem” and has written for major U.S. and Indian publications.
MUSLIMS LIVING AS MINORITIES Why is France Producing Such a High Level of Islamophobia?
Secularism and “being French” vs. acceptance of difference on full display
BY MONIA MAZIGH
While watching a video OF a group of young French Muslimas being interviewed about their lives and experiences (https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=VS7YQ4yqRbg), I was shocked when one of them mentioned that they are relatively lucky to live in northern France so they can quickly go for a dip in a public swimming pool in a nearby German town and come back home. The reason is, of course, that France doesn’t allow women to wear a burkini, a modest bathing suit worn by Muslimas that covers their entire bodies, at public pools. But this isn’t the only thing France’s Muslimas are prevented from doing. It all began in the late 1980s, when the first media controversy about Muslimas’ attire began making headlines (https://enseignants.lumni.fr/fiche-media/00000000448/ l-affaire-du-foulard-islamique-en-1989. html). Two teenage Muslimas were excluded from their lycée (high school) because they insisted on wearing their foulard (hijab) in the classroom. Since then, things have spiralled, with one controversy after another. Starting out as a local matter about what constitutes a religious sign, it soon grew into cases that drew international attention. Gradually, the exclusion of young hijab-wearing girls from public schools was replicated nationwide; a decade later, this discriminatory decision became a law — “in the spirit of secularism” claimed its proponents. This law is widely called the “veil law.” In 2004, under Jacques Chirac (president [1995-2007]; prime minister [1974-76 and 1986-88]), this so-called law banned the headscarf, as well as the Jewish kippa and the Christian cross, in government schools. However, things didn’t stop there. In 2009, another controversy emerged over the niqab. Even though only a handful of women wear it in France, a new law was introduced and passed in 2010 banning it in public spaces. The ban, it was said, was justified by the will to promote open and equal interaction in society. Violating it can lead to a fine of €150 (equivalent to $162).
The ban remains in effect even during the Covid-19 pandemic, when Paris made the mask obligatory in enclosed public spaces. The double standard vis-à-vis Muslim rights is certainly obvious here. “Can the Islamophobia be any more transparent?” Human Rights Watch executive director Kenneth Roth said on Twitter. “The French government mandates masks but still bans the burqa” (https://www.cbsnews.com/ news/france-burqa-ban-islamic-face-coverings-masks-mandatory/).
The situation in swimming pools and at beaches remains challenging. In 2016, a few police officers awoke a burkini-wearing Muslima napping on a beach in Nice. Her scared face, not knowing what wrong she had committed, was sad evidence of the state of fear and continuous harassment faced by Islamically attired Muslimas in the public space. That image of a Muslima surrounded by police officers on the beach made the global headlines and gave rise to a new saga: the burkini on French beaches.
Needless to say, the newly improvised ban was not legally sanctioned by the state; rather, it was a personal decision left to the discretion of some mayors who were trying to please a certain public right-wing votership. In swimming pools, the stories are almost similar, for the banning the burkini remains a municipal decision implemented for public health reasons in some towns.
Last year, a Muslima and her group started a grassroot movement in France, Citizen Alliance of Grenoble, which has initiated “Operation Burkini” to stop this discriminatory ban. Some observers even saw parallels between what Rosa Parks did during the 1960s in the US (https://www. bbc.com/news/world-europe-48744153), defying the discriminatory laws of not letting Black people sit in the front of buses, and the civil disobedience acts of these Muslimas who, once kicked out of the pool, installed an outdoor inflatable pool near the venue and spent time swimming there.
But beyond this, the policing of French Muslima bodies, the attempts of Paris to “erase” their religious visibility from the public space and the overall situation of French Muslims continues to be a source of several controversies, polarization and, most of all, the subject of a “normalized” form of Islamophobia that very few call by its real name. French Muslims declared that they were subjected to discrimination because of their religious beliefs (https://www.lemonde.fr/ societe/article/2019/11/06/selon-un-sondage-40-des-musulmans-de-france-ont-faitl-objet-de-racisme_6018225_3224.html). Nevertheless, this new Islamophobia continues to grow in more “décomplexée” and particularly more gendered manners.
WHY IS ISLAMOPHOBIA GROWING IN FRANCE? France has a long history with “la problématique islamique.” It didn’t start with the terrorist attacks conducted by some French Muslims between 2012 and 2020 or with the debate about the “Islamic veil.” The latter debate, as we know, has been ongoing since the end of the 1980s — before being eclipsed by the more recent burkini ban controversy on beaches and swimming pools.
With over 5 million Muslims, France is home to Europe’s largest Muslim population. And yet Muslims’ relationship to the French political class and media is extremely tense — a troubling situation that is the result of two main reasons.
First, France’s colonial past has not been erased from the collective memories and specially from the actions and foreign policies of successive French governments. The majority of the 5.7 million French Muslims originate from the former French colonies in North and West Africa. Many of them arrived after World War II and worked in the booming factories during that era. Later, many of them brought their families, mainly from Algeria, Morocco and Tunisia.
Today it’s members of the third generation who are facing all of this discrimination, along with the ongoing discrimination related to jobs, housing and police brutality. In 2019, a survey conducted by a French think tank found that 42% of
The second reason is that identity politics has been a winning card for parties across the political spectrum. Presidential hopeful Emanuel Macron, a finance minister under the socialist president Francois Hollande, started his La République en Marche political party without a distinct affiliation to either the traditional right or left. Many observers optimistically thought that this new “non-partisan” style would clear the existing toxicity and expel identity politics from the political arena.
But such optimism was all in vain, for President Macron has been playing the identity card very hard to gain more support than his right-wing political adversary, Marine Le Pen, who lost the last election but remains determined to win the 2022 presidential election. This political rivalry is usually done on the back of French Muslims. In a nutshell, it’s a race about who can show that his/her party or government is the toughest on Muslims.
Every time a tragic event is committed or claimed by Muslim extremists on French soil (regardless of whether the perpetrator is of French descent or not), the media and political machines start a cycle of blaming and targeting Muslim citizens with laws — like the “Islamist separatism” bill that Macron announced a few days before the horrifying beheading of the school teacher, Samuel Paty, in Paris in October 2020. Last spring, the bill passed into law and gave Paris more power to control Muslim citizens when it comes to educating their children and organizing their religious affairs. Indeed, after a young Chechen refugee living in France brutally murdered Paty for showing his students the Charlie Hebdo caricatures of the Prophet, voices in the media and political class were very quick to pinpoint an imaginary link between this appalling act of violence and Islam and, by extension, between terrorism and French Muslim communities. The killer’s mental state was largely unquestioned. Only his religious affiliation seemed to matter. And, by association, so did the faith of French Muslims.
Paris cracked down on 50+ Muslim organizations, while vigilante groups attacked mosques. Interior Minister Gérald Darmanin proposed a ban on the Collective Against Islamophobia in France (CCIF) — an association that tracks anti-Muslim hate crimes — prompting opposition from both academics and civil society groups. However, considering the hysteria, the CCIF was dissolved in a matter of few weeks by government decree (https:// time.com/5918657/frances-muslim-citizens- republican-values/).
And each time, the debate is simplistically described as a fight between “good and evil,” where evil is always attributed to French Muslims with terms like “Islamism,” “jihadism,” “terrorism,” “separatism” and “barbarism.” The “good,” meanwhile, is always attributed to French republican values described by words like laïcité, civilité, liberté and égalité.
Yet none of these ideals ever seem to be extended to French Muslims — as if they’re a monolithic, backward block who are incapable of accepting the Republic’s values. But the on-the-ground reality is totally different. For the first time, French Muslims are becoming actively involved in politics, the arts and in civil society (https://press.princeton.edu/ books/ebook/9781400831111/can-islambe-french). It’s this new visibility — their pride in being both Muslim and French — that bothers, that disturbs some staunch secularists who are nostalgic for an era when an Arab (understood in the French context as a Muslim) is and will remain the eternal “colonized.” ih
Monia Mazigh, PhD, is an academic, author and human rights activist. She is an adjunct professor at Carleton University. In 2008, she published “Hope and Despair: My Struggle to Free My Husband, Maher Arar” (2008). She is also the author of three novels: "Mirrors and Mirages" (2015), "Hope Has Two Daughters" (2017) and "Farida" (2020). She is currently working on a collection of essays about gendered Islamophobia.
